During all these weeks, she had lived quietly and regularly at Mrs. Anderson's boarding-house. Clayton had met her at the Grand Central Station when she arrived in New York and had taken her to the place, introducing her to Mrs. Anderson in words which she had resented, though she had realized at the time that he was quite justified in his demands.
"Miss Farnum will be in your charge," he had explained. "It is understood that she is to do exactly as you direct in all things. She is not to accept dinner invitations from any one, she is to come straight home after each performance, and she is to go nowhere unless you accompany her."
These galling restrictions were now, however, beginning to prove irksome. Youth cannot be chained too tightly without tugging at its bonds. So it was with Martha after four months of the free-and-easy associations behind the scenes, where even the best behaved girl will talk of the little supper at which she was a guest the night before. In fact, the hard work of rehearsals and the unusual hours which the stage requires its people to adopt, often made Martha wish that she, too, could have the freedom and the privileges which the other girls in "The Pet of Paris" enjoyed.
Consequently, when she arrived home this particular afternoon and threw herself into a large easy-chair, utterly tired, and just a little regretful that she had to dine in the somewhat gloomy, old-fashioned house, it was not with the greatest pleasure in the world that she prepared to answer to the usual cross-examination of well-meaning but sharp-tongued Aunt Jane.
"Did you come straight home after the matinée?" inquired the latter.
"Of course," answered Martha, sleepily. "There was such a crowded house. And so many encores, I am dead tired."
"You seem much later than usual?"
"Now, Aunt Jane, don't ask so many questions. It's Martha this and Martha that and 'Martha, where have you been?' all day long, until I am beginning to get sick and tired of it."
"It is all for your own good, and you know whose instructions I am carrying out."
"I know," pouted Martha, regretfully. "But don't you think he is a little unreasonable? How could a bit of supper after the show hurt any one? Other girls go."